


a strange thing

by xiseoks



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiseoks/pseuds/xiseoks
Summary: Maybe the reason Jongdae can't move on from Baekhyun is because strangely, impossibly, Baekhyun feels the same way.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen
Comments: 21
Kudos: 109





	a strange thing

**Author's Note:**

> i was tired of staring at my main baekchen wip, and i love writing completely unrelated confession scenes, so here’s this. bffs to lovers, of course *cue tired groans* can u come up with something else!!

“Ah, come on, Jongin, we’re not even a little bit drunk yet!”

“Exactly, I want to leave before you guys get to that point.”

Jongin throws his jacket over his shoulder, scanning over the rest of his friends with an amused smile. 

“No-fun,” Baekhyun mumbles, dropping his head onto Jongdae’s shoulder to look cuter when he pouts at Jongin. 

“You’ll survive,” Jongin laughs. He offers them all a general wave as he’s met with a chorus of goodbyes, and leaves them at their table, meat still sizzling away in the middle of them all. “Happy birthday again, Jongdae.”

Jongdae raises his shot glass in cheers, both a thanks and a farewell, before shooting it down his throat. When he opens his eyes again, Jongin’s left, and only the rest of his friends sit before him in a circle, minus the empty chair that some stranger comes by to steal for their own table. 

“The night’s just begun, guys,” Jongdae says. “Do me a favor and have a great time so Jongin regrets missing out, yeah?”

The laughter that follows is more liberating than the alcohol that sizzles down his throat. He follows up with another cheers, clinking glasses with his friends.

And then turns to meet glasses with Baekhyun last. The smile Baekhyun sends him warms Jongdae’s gut, much more than any bit of alcohol can do. He prefers to watch Baekhyun take his shot before he takes his own, chuckling at the way he comes back to the surface with eyes that match the emoticons he loves sending over text.

“To Jongdae!” Junmyeon cheers, abruptly pulling Jongdae out of his bubble. Everyone follows up with either a playful jab at his age, or well-intentioned birthday wishes. 

Two hours blur past quickly, full of jokes and old stories and nostalgic reminiscing. Jongdae’s more than aware of Baekhyun’s hand on his knee most of the time, even while Baekhyun talks to Kyungsoo on his other side, smiling at him, laughing with him. They’ve gotten close lately, the two of them. It’s only a matter of time. 

One by one, their friends leave for the night, until there’s four people at the table, all impressively more drunk than before. Besides Junmyeon, that is, who is Kyungsoo’s ride home — who has coincidentally decided the night is over for them as well. 

“You are _no fun_ , Do Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun whines. Jongdae watches the way Baekhyun’s lips naturally curl into a sweet smile when Kyungsoo says something playful but vaguely insulting in return.

“We don’t really feel like third and fourth wheeling,” Kyungsoo says. 

“No fun!” Baekhyun emphasizes. 

“Third wheeling?” Jongdae says.

Baekhyun rests his smushed cheek into his palm as he watches Junmyeon and Kyungsoo leave — they do a little playful half-jog out of the place, looking back only to twinkle their fingers in a teasing manner. 

Jongdae, meanwhile, mouths _third-wheeling?_ at Baekhyun, who only rolls his eyes and hands Jongdae another full shot glass. 

“We’re plenty drunk enough,” Jongdae says, eying the shot glass with disdain even as he takes it. “How will we even get home at this point?”

“Was sort of relying on Junmyeon or Kyungsoo but seeing as that’s out of the question, guess we’ll pass out here until morn’.”

“No, you won’t,” Yixing calls from behind the register. He’s ringing up a couple, but manages to eavesdrop anyway. 

“Aw, come on, Xing. We’ll help you clean in the morning too. We won’t take up much space, just let us knock out on a table.”

“You guys know I’d never let you go home like this,” Yixing says, “but I’d also never let you crash here.”

Baekhyun sticks his tongue out at him before turning back to Jongdae. Jongdae isn’t sure if it’s because he’s intoxicated or not, but Baekhyun looks even more like a dream than usual. Hazy, a little fuzzy, beautiful, eyes sparkling, silver hair a damn _mess_ from his antics throughout the night.

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun says, suddenly serious. His pouty mouth is turned down into a frown. It takes Jongdae off guard. 

“For what?”

“Sorry that we can’t do anything more for your birthday,” Baekhyun mumbles into his fist, propped up by his elbow on the table. His words are slurring and Jongdae does think it’s time for them to end the night as well.

“What do you mean?” Jongdae laughs. He folds his arms onto the table and rests his head on its side so he can look at Baekhyun. “I had a great birthday.”

“Well, I want to do more,” Baekhyun says. “I want to throw you the biggest party. I want to — I want to hire a clown.” Jongdae snorts. “I want to — ooh, I want to get a big bounce house. A pinata.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Jongdae chuckles.

“I want to… I want to take you to see the moon,” Baekhyun says. “I want to gather all the stars and put them in a bottle for you. I want to take a trip with you across the galaxy. Only then will I think, ah yes, this is a good way to celebrate Kim Jongdae.”

Jongdae warms at the sentiment, feels his face heat up completely unrelated to the alcohol. 

“That’s ridiculous, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, because he isn’t quite sure how else to respond to such a proclamation.

“Don’t test me, Kim,” Baekhyun says, eyes comically wide as he sits straight up, completely determined. “I will find a way to wrangle all those pesky stars onto your ceiling so you never miss them, so they always show up for you and you only.”

“You’re so fucking drunk,” Jongdae giggles into his folded arms. Baekhyun pouts at him for a second, completely insulted that he’s not being taken seriously, but then, he laughs along with him, eyes beaming and turning into the sweet moon crescent shapes that always lifts Jongdae’s heart. 

Yixing kicks them out after ten more minutes of mindless, bubbly giggling, predictably, given their state. Luckily enough, Baekhyun’s apartment is only a few blocks down. Unluckily for future (hungover) Baekhyun and Jongdae, drunk Baekhyun and Jongdae are not ready to call quits on such a beautiful night. 

Jongdae stabilizes himself by weaving his arm through Baekhyun’s. Baekhyun, at the contact, instantly clings to him like a magnet. Baekhyun craves human contact like no one else Jongdae knows, both seeking warmth and incredibly eager to share his own at the same time. Jongdae’s sure there’s a Baekhyun-shaped imprint on his shoulder from where he leans his head on it every time they’re together. 

Despite the roaring engines of rushing cars even at this hour, Jongdae’s feelings start to translate into singing, a bit carelessly, a bit loud. Baekhyun, without missing a beat, sings with him, some old Korean folk song. He pulls him along, swaying along the sidewalk, jumping between tiles, kicking pebbles along the way. Jongdae’s aware of how incredibly, obviously drunk they’ll appear to passing cars, but he laughs and pulls Baekhyun close to his side anyway. 

It’s been so long since they’ve spent time together like this; they’re always with the others, or they’re always working, so nights like these take Jongdae back to their college years. It seems so nostalgic, so faded, even if it wasn’t long ago at all. He wonders if loving Baekhyun throughout all this time has made it seem longer.

They wander around until they find their way to the playground, void of any other people at the late hour. Baekhyun, like the child he is, makes a beeline for the swings, and Jongdae skips after him, following his laughter. 

Jongdae throws himself onto the swing by the stomach, his tummy landing on the seat and the impact swinging him forwards. Baekhyun’s obnoxious laugh that follows rings through the night. 

Jongdae sits up and rearranges himself on the swing properly, and they sit like that for a while, nothing but the quiet creaking of the swingset and the light of the moon. Jongdae doesn’t bet Baekhyun who can go higher anymore because it always ends with him embarrassing himself as Baekhyun proves again and again just how much more fit he is when he wins. 

He swings slowly instead, leisurely, head resting on the chain of the swing. Baekhyun seems to tire himself out quickly as well, slowing until his shoes scrape against the wood chips. 

“I haven’t heard you sing in a while,” Baekhyun says after some time of content silence. “Even just playfully, like on the street earlier.”

“Was it worse than you remembered?” Jongdae asks, and Baekhyun frowns at him.

“No, it was nice to hear you sing again. You know how I feel about your singing. It’s like — you know in video games, when you’re down to one life left, but then against all odds, you find a healing potion, and your life is regenerated and you go back to five hearts? That’s what it’s like hearing you sing again.”

“I was screeching my lungs out, Byun,” Jongdae teases. Expertly, he avoids the pathetic kick Baekhyun aims his way.

“Take my compliment, dickwad,” Baekhyun says, and Jongdae laughs. 

“Fine,” he says. “Thank you. That’s...sweet.”

Baekhyun smiles in satisfaction, pleased. Jongdae, incapable of handling this period of silence after such a sentiment, fills it with mindless small talk.

“How’s your stuff going?”

“Stuff?” Baekhyun asks. “Oh, the album?”

“Yes, your baby, your masterpiece, the album.”

“It’s going really well!” Baekhyun says. His voice pitches higher when he’s excited. It’s cute. “It’s tiring and a little bit lonely, plus I’m up late producing a lot, but I think it’ll be really gratifying when I’m done.”

He sideyes Jongdae hopefully. “You can always feature if you want to…”

“That’s fine,” Jongdae inserts with a laugh before Baekhyun can push. “You need as much spotlight as you can get.”

“Wow, backhanded way of saying I’m not very well known, thanks, Jongdae.”

“Hey, you know that’s—”

Baekhyun just grins at Jongdae, clearly glad he’s taken the bait. It’s Jongdae’s turn to aim a poor kick at him. 

“Besides,” Baekhyun says, “Kyungsoo’s on it so it’s not like it’s all me anyway.”

Jongdae fidgets with his fingers. “Ah, he is?”

“Yeah! Kyungsoo’s been over a lot lately actually,” Baekhyun says. “I didn’t think he was serious about wanting to start producing, but he was! I’ve been teaching him the basics. He’s a natural.”

“Ah…” Jongdae says. “Of course, he’s good at everything, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Baekhyun says, chuckling. “How is it possible? Save some talent for the rest of us, Kyungsoo!” 

The way he talks about Kyungsoo; it’s so clear. Obvious. 

“I’m glad we’re getting closer, me and Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says, awe in his voice. “I’ve always admired him and his voice since college. Seeing you guys hanging out back then always made me a little jealous. I really wanted to be his friend then too.” 

It doesn’t bother Jongdae anymore — Baekhyun’s inevitable relationship with Kyungsoo. Everyone knows it. Everyone sees it. And what’s not to see? They’re perfect for each other. Soulmates if there ever were any. Jongdae’s taught himself how to move on from Baekhyun precisely because of this, so it doesn’t bother him anymore. The period after college — when Baekhyun and Kyungsoo started to become closer — was particularly hard on him. He was grappling with the realization that he was too late, too late to be anything more than a friend to Baekhyun, all because of his reluctance to tell him that his heart yearns for him in a way that will never be just platonic. 

Eventually he had to tell himself to get over him if he ever wanted a peace of mind for himself, because they would never work anyway. They were incompatible, romantically. They were strange enough as friends, to be honest. They were from two completely different worlds. Baekhyun, born and raised in the center of Seoul, a city-man, all sleek and new age, prefers RnB and hip-hop music, a bit of a dancer. Jongdae, a country boy from Gurye, preferred rainy days, liked the way snow looks in his hair, prefers singing acoustic. They would never make sense. 

It’s been years, and although he still holds Baekhyun close to his heart, there is no stab of pain in his chest anymore whenever any one of their friends brings up how perfect Baekhyun and Kyungsoo are for each other. They’re so painfully oblivious to each other that Jongdae just wishes they’d get together already, actually. 

(It’s a little more difficult to convince himself he’s moved on from Baekhyun when he’s drunk, mind clouded, vision full of a smiling and twinkly-eyed Baekhyun. The way he looks at the stars, at Kyungsoo, is the way Jongdae wants him to look at him, but that confession is buried underneath years and years of denial and a deep refusal to get in their way.)

Baekhyun has never confided in Jongdae about anything concerning Kyungsoo, besides their musical collaborations, and Jongdae just takes that as more of a confirmation that it’s simply a matter of when they decide to stop dancing around each other. 

“I’m really happy for you, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, more of a reflex than anything. He always will be though, as long as Baekhyun is happy. 

Baekhyun hums, his smile shy. He seems to be lost in thought for a while, eyes clouded as his shoes feebly kick at the wood chips. Jongdae knows Baekhyun can get a little too into his head sometimes, knows he has a tendency to phase out of reality and can overthink, worry. He does it most when he’s alone, or when it’s late at night. And if you asked him what’s wrong, he would brush you off, flash you a trademark Baekhyun smile, and make a silly joke. Jongdae’s learned that there are better, easier ways to take Baekhyun’s mind off things. 

“I bet you I can make it to the bridge before you,” Jongdae says suddenly. He doesn’t give time for Baekhyun to respond, jumping out of his swing and sprinting away. 

Baekhyun’s insulted _Hey!_ is distant behind him as he runs, runs, runs towards the small bridge by the edge of the park. He hears Baekhyun laughing, hears him coming up close behind him, and really, Jongdae’s efforts were futile. He needed the advantage, because Baekhyun goes to the gym, and Jongdae doesn’t, so can you blame him?

Needless to say, Baekhyun passes him with little effort, even turning to skip backwards and flash Jongdae a teasing smile before he sprints away and hits the bridge before Jongdae does. He’s gasping by the time he makes it there, but the grin on Baekhyun’s face is so worth it. 

Baekhyun leans against the railing of the bridge, completely unphased. “I win,” he says. Cheeky, always so cheeky. 

It’s a pathetic little bridge, covering only eight feet of the pit below it at the most. The water for the makeshift river was reserved only for the summer seasons, so there was nothing but worn stone underneath it. No babbling river to distract Jongdae from his rampant, wandering, dangerous thoughts. 

“You really got me,” Jongdae says, joining him. 

“You will never win me at a race, Kim Jongdae,” Baekhyun says. 

Jongdae gives him a playful shove before crossing his arms against the railing of the bridge and leaning against it. They’re quiet for a while as Jongdae catches his breath. It’s getting chillier, clouds clearing and moon showing herself in all of her glory. It would be a beautiful sight if the artificial river were flowing beneath them, if it were summer. 

“Look,” Baekhyun says. “They heard me complaining.”

Baekhyun points to the stars, how they’re more scattered than usual, bigger and brighter 

“Do you think they gather to make plans for Kim Jongdae’s birthday too?” he says, and Jongdae shoves him again. 

“Shut up,” he laughs. 

“They’re a little late though,” Baekhyun says. “Not very good.”

Jongdae frowns. “I just think that the stars follow Byun Baekhyun wherever he goes, and that’s why they're here now.”

Baekhyun, surprisingly, has no teasing remark to say back. He turns his head instead, just slightly, so he can look at Jongdae with a warmth in his eyes that, infuriatingly, melts Jongdae to his core. It seems that no matter how hard Jongdae tries to move on, Baekhyun himself will always remind him why he will never be able to. 

“Do you think so?” Baekhyun asks.

Jongdae nods, gives him a smile. 

“Well,” Baekhyun says, leaning his head back again and closing his eyes, that content smile on his face, like he has all he needs, “the stars never show up when it’s just me by myself, or with anyone else, so you know what? Maybe they’re only around when we’re together.”

Baekhyun, teasingly, peeks one eye open at Jongdae, cheeky smile on his face as he gauges his reaction. 

“You’re so annoying,” Jongdae says, kicking his foot with his own. 

Baekhyun feigns pain, earning another eye roll from Jongdae, before he laughs and rests his head on Jongdae’s shoulder. Like he always does. 

“So warm, my Jongdae,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around Jongdae’s waist. “The one thing you’re good for.”

Jongdae pinches Baekhyun’s arm, pulling a yelp from the other before he relaxes around him again.

“Happy birthday,” he says. He sounds a bit tired now. “I mean it. I do want to do more for you.”

“It’s okay, Baekhyun,” Jongdae assures, patting Baekhyun’s hand on his waist. “It’s just another day.”

“No, it’s not,” Baekhyun says. “It’s not. It’s the best day.”

Jongdae simply chuckles, tries his best to embrace Baekhyun in return with him wrapped around him like this. Somehow they find themselves sitting on the bridge, backs against the railing, looking out onto an empty park and a dry river. They sit like this for a while, unmoving, steady heartbeats between them. Jongdae fights the chill with Baekhyun’s warmth. Baekhyun’s everlasting warmth. 

And slowly, reality starts to phase out. 

Time has always been meaningless to Jongdae. From three a.m. study sessions in college to sitting outside waiting rooms for hours, he knows time is on its own schedule and it isn’t up to anyone else to try and define what exactly time is or its relativity to the rest of the universe, but sitting there with Baekhyun, just like this, he loses track of time entirely. 

He forgets what day it is, where they are, why they’re here, how they got here. If he closes his eyes, they could be home, for all he knew, on Jongdae’s couch, or Baekhyun’s obnoxious king sized bed facing those floor-to-ceiling windows he cherished so much. If he closes his eyes, they could be on another planet, or they could be back on the swingset, or they could in a spaceship soaring across the galaxy. He loses track of everything, except Baekhyun himself. 

He’s only taken out of it when the pressure on his shoulder disappears. Baekhyun lifts his head to look at him. He’s so close, closer than expected, closer than is normal between the two of them. The moon hits the side of his face in a way that highlights him in the most beautiful way, and suddenly, it’s like he is all Jongdae sees. The park, the bridge around them fades into the background, the sounds of distant cars and tree leaves rustling dulls away into silence, and all Jongdae can hear is the gentle, slow, _thud-thud_ of his heart.

“Baek?” Jongdae asks, concerned.

“Was just thinking,” Baekhyun says. “Can I tell you something?”

Jongdae’s heart skips a beat, because his voice has gone deep and rough. “Of course.”

Baekhyun is just so, so close.

He can see every little lash, even the stray one on his cheek. He can see his moles, scattered all around. Baekhyun’s lips are chapped from the chill, his cheeks pinkened. He can feel his breath fanning across his cheeks. How impossibly beautiful he is. 

Baekhyun tilts his head in, and Jongdae doesn’t back away, doesn’t move, waits for something to happen. Something. _Something._

It feels right. It feels right? Maybe the stars _are_ here just for them. Maybe it has always been them. Time is meaningless, pointless, endless so maybe these few seconds of time will fade away into nothing. Maybe Jongdae can give in for a few meaningless seconds.

He’s so close.

All he’s ever wanted was to kiss Baekhyun, all he’s ever wanted was to hold him, all he’s ever wanted, all he’s ever wanted, all he’s ever wanted— 

Is his happiness.

Jongdae opens his eyes.

He pulls back. All the way back. 

“Wait.”

Baekhyun’s eyes flutter open. He blinks. A little wrinkle in his forehead. Confusion in those sad, downturned eyes. 

“What?” he asks, small and feeble and wondering if he’s done something wrong. 

Jongdae struggles to get a grasp on the situation. Puts some space between them. Stands up.

“What’s happening,” he mumbles, mostly to himself. 

“What?” Baekhyun says, standing with him. “What do you mean? I thought—”

Jongdae sputters. His heart is in a frenzy. “Were we just about to…?”

“Uh,” Baekhyun stutters. “Yeah, but usually you don’t say it out loud.” He takes a step back, grounds himself. Jongdae’s eyes fixate on the growing space between them. 

“I’m so confused,” Jongdae says. “Why would you — hold on.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Dae?”

“You’re drunk.”

Baekhyun scoffs. “Keen observation.”

“That explains it. Okay. You’re drunk, that’s the only reason why—”

“Jongdae, if you don’t stop muttering to yourself and explain what’s going on—”

Jongdae runs a hand through his hair, trying to sort out the drunken desires from the hard truths. It’s never been more difficult. Everything is muddled together and he can’t separate the two.

“We would never work, Baekhyun, we don’t make sense — we shouldn’t do this, we can’t—”

“We don’t make sense?” Baekhyun repeats. “Jongdae, you are the only thing that makes sense to me.”

Baekhyun has seemed to slow into a melancholic state, staring at Jongdae with sadness in his eyes. His shoulders have gone slack and his fingers play with the hem of his sweater, nervous, while Jongdae is left in a frantic state of confusion. 

“Everybody’s waiting for you guys, you know,” Jongdae says, words tumbling out. “ _Everyone’s_ waiting for you guys to get together.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

 _“You and Kyungsoo,”_ Jongdae practically shouts. 

Baekhyun merely blinks. 

“Kyungsoo?”

“Everyone has been expecting it,” Jongdae says, calmer now. “Everyone knows it’s going to happen, sooner or later. Because it makes sense. You and Kyungsoo. You make sense.”

Baekhyun stares at Jongdae in bewilderment before crossing his arms against his chest. He looks visibly upset now. 

“Do you care to explain why you think we _’make sense’?”_

“You’re duet partners,” Jongdae says. “Your voices go well and when you sing, you look at each other like — like you’re each other’s world, and — and, you guys always sit next to each other, at these parties, and you — you take him home, afterwards, and you give him your coat on rainy days, and you guys share a blanket, when we all have our movie nights, and you — you guys brought cookies to Minseok’s housewarming, like, like you were already a couple. It just — it makes sense. Ask anyone who came tonight, they’ll agree, you know. They talk about it all the time when you guys aren’t around, you can’t pretend you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t,” Baekhyun says, firm, to the point. “Kyungsoo is my friend. Nothing more, and never will be. I didn’t know everyone was expecting me and him. I guess I was too busy expecting you and me.”

Jongdae swallows around the lump in his throat. “Y-You and me?” 

“In my eyes,” Baekhyun says, “Kyungsoo and I don’t make sense at all. We sing together, sure. Our voices go really well together, yeah. We like baking. I gave him my jacket because he gets cold easily. We share a blanket because he likes to mooch off my body heat. But god, that’s literally it, Jongdae. I love him, I do, but he would drive me crazy.” He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “If any of you guys bothered to look past our duets, you’d see we don’t click at all. At least not as anything more than friends. Which is what he is. A friend. A very dear one, yeah. But just a friend. And I’m positive — _certain_ — he would say the same.”

Jongdae grasps for words, for reason, for explanation, because his brain is about ready to explode. 

“But, even your _mom_ expects—”

“Jongdae, my mom thinks I have chemistry with the neighbor’s daughter. And I’m gay.” 

There’s still a bit of alcohol coursing through Jongdae’s system, and he’s having a difficult time catching up, trying to make sense of things. Is he dreaming? The dark, open night sky seems so criminal now, like it’s closing in on him. 

“You know,” Baekhyun says, ducking his head and kicking at the pebbles on the ground. “If this is your way of rejecting me, I’d rather you be upfront—”

Jongdae laughs, but it’s harsh and bitter and nothing like him. 

“I _wish_ I had the power to ever reject you, Byun Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun gives him a hard stare, so different from the warmth earlier tonight. 

“You just did five minutes ago.”

“That wasn’t—” Jongdae balls his hands into fists, clenching and unclenching. “That’s not rejection, I — this isn’t how it _should be_ —” 

“Then tell me, please,” Baekhyun says, his tone a little harder now. “Tell me how it should be. Because all this time I thought it was _you and me_ , all this time I was working on _us_ , I was flirting with _you_ —”

“But _everyone_ says—” Jongdae pauses, lifts his head. “Flirting?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but me finding excuses to sit next to you at get togethers, or playing with your fingers, isn’t just a best-friend thing. I don’t do that with anyone. Except you.”

“I wasn’t rejecting you, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says quietly. “I was just confused. I know we’re both drunk so I was afraid you were doing something you didn’t mean to do and I panicked and pulled away.”

Baekhyun doesn’t look convinced. “Okay. Then did you really want to kiss me?”

Jongdae wants to laugh. Baekhyun will never know how much he wants to kiss him. 

“Baekhyun, I have been in love with you _my whole life_ ,” Jongdae says, throat clogged. “I have loved you when it was hard to, and I have especially loved you when it was easy, but when it was clear that you had met your soulmate in Kyungsoo, I — got over you. I tried to, at least. I was — _am_ — in the process of moving on, and then _fuck_ \--” 

“My soulmate,” Baekhyun laughs harshly. “Says who? Who the _hell_ decided this? And why are you listening to them? Fuck what everyone else says, Jongdae. Since when do you care what they think?”

“Because I had to!” Jongdae says. “I had to, if I ever had any chance of getting over you. I had to see truth in what they were saying, I had to _move on_ , Baekhyun, I _had_ to see what they saw. That you and Kyungsoo were inevitable. That I was in love with a guy that would never feel the same way back.”

Baekhyun gives him a hard stare, brows furrowed. 

“Well,” Baekhyun says. “You all saw wrong.”

“How sure are you that this isn’t just...the alcohol talking, Baek?” Jongdae says. “You can’t do this, you know. You can’t do this _drunk_ , especially.”

Baekhyun is quiet for a second, crossing his arms against his chest. He huffs in disbelief, angry, confused. 

“What makes sense in a relationship to you, Kim Jongdae?” Baekhyun asks. “What makes someone good for another person, hm?”

Jongdae fidgets under his glare. For all his soft and warm tones, Baekhyun can be intimidating when he’s upset. 

“I don’t know, they just have to compliment each other well.”

Baekhyun raises a brow. “Is that what you think of me and Kyungsoo? We compliment each other well?”

“I don’t fucking know, Baekhyun, it’s just what _everyone_ thought—”

“Oh my god, fuck everyone else, Jongdae. This is about you and me.” Baekhyun throws his hands into the air and paces forward.

“Baekhyun, you aren’t getting it,” Jongdae says. “I’ve had to teach myself this for years. I’ve had to tell myself that we weren’t right for each other, that we’re best as friends, if I ever had any chance of moving on. I’ve learned to shut down my fucking heart and think with my head, with _logic_. So when you try to kiss me while you’re _drunk_ , it just — it doesn’t make sense. You’re drunk.”

Baekhyun gapes at him, something wet welling up in his eyes as his brows draw together, as his lips press into a thin line. There’s anger in his eyes, sadness, but above all — hurt.

“Jackass,” Baekhyun murmurs through gritted teeth. “Love isn’t supposed to make any sense. You can’t explain it, you’re not supposed to explain it, it’s just the feeling in you that’s — that’s _beyond any_ explanation, and — and words, and _logic_. It’s not a fucking equation you can just try to figure out, it’s a feeling. People don’t just—” Baekhyun chokes on his words, his eyes shining, “— people don’t just fall in love with people who might _seem right for them_ , it’s so much more than that, it’s…”

Baekhyun loses track of his thoughts, running a hand through his hair and gritting his teeth. There’s so much space between them, so much more than they’re used to. Jongdae hates how far away he is. 

“Listen,” Baekhyun says, determined. “I’m in love with you. I have been for years, Jongdae, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I was afraid. But if you don’t think we make any sense, and — and if you’d rather listen to what other people tell you then I don’t know what to say to you.”

The angry expression, the hard definitions of the lines of Baekhyun’s usually soft, usually gentle face, softly melt into something melancholic, something bitter, sad. It makes Jongdae feel like he’s being split into two pieces. 

“So don’t you dare try to look me in the eyes and say that I don’t feel anything for you,” Baekhyun says. “Don’t you try to reduce this to some clumsy, drunken impulse. Because I can tell you right now that I’m sobering up and I’m hating every second of it.”

His last word breaks with a sob. Jongdae feels himself crumble even more. Maybe he doesn’t deserve Baekhyun, maybe he has never deserved him. 

“Everything else aside,” Baekhyun says, softer now, more like _Baekhyun_ , “what do you feel for me? Are you trying to tell me you’ve moved on, is that it?”

Jongdae chews on the question, wonders how it’s even possible to translate every single feeling he has for Baekhyun into proper words. Words that would do him justice, words that will explain to him what exactly he means to him. 

Maybe that doesn’t matter for now. All he needs is the truth. All they _both_ need is the truth. 

“If you asked me six hours ago,” Jongdae says, “I probably would have lied and said yes.”

Baekhyun’s intense gaze does not waver.

“And now?” 

Jongdae is still struggling to process the flurry of emotions that have so quickly overwhelmed him, still wondering what to do with the fact that Baekhyun had, all along, been expecting for _them_ to happen. He’s still catching up, still opening his heart and _allowing_ himself to love Baekhyun after shoving it away for so long, after telling himself it would never work, never happen. Always ruling it out.

“I’m as in love with you as the day I first saw you.”

It’s a strange thing to be able to say it out loud. Strange, but freeing. 

Baekhyun stares at him, eyes shining, throat bobbing. Jongdae wants to hold him so bad. Wants to take him into his arms, kiss his head, his nose, tell him he has always wanted him, tell him he will always love him, no matter how hard he tries to let go of him. 

And he knows now, why he couldn’t. 

The silence between them isn’t unbearable anymore. It’s content, an understanding slowly flowing between them as all obstacles are pushed out of the way, as every insecurity and misunderstanding crumbles away into nothing and all that’s left is the direct path between Jongdae and Baekhyun, a future, a chance. A shared heart, shared soul. They don’t take their eyes off each other. 

For the first time in a long time, Jongdae isn’t afraid. For the first time, Jongdae doesn’t have to unpin his heart from his sleeve and store it away somewhere else, somewhere lonely. 

“Isn’t it crazy,” Baekhyun says quietly, after a while, “that this is the first argument we’ve ever had?”

Jongdae, despite himself, chokes out a laugh, something of a crazy half-sob. He watches as Baekhyun does the same, watches as his eyes — still teary — crinkle again into happy moons, as his smile turns bright again, still somewhat sad. Hopeful, but sad. Maybe at the time wasted. 

So then Jongdae decides he’s tired of not knowing what Baekhyun tastes like, what his heart feels like pressed against his own, so he walks forward, eliminating that offensive space between them, and slows to a stop right in front of him, waiting, wondering, asking. 

Baekhyun’s eyelids flutter, lashes fanning against his cheeks. He looks as if he’s holding his breath. His gaze wanders all over Jongdae’s face until they land on his lips, and finally, he presses the palms of his hands firm against his waist, pulls him in until they’re touching, and kisses him. 

As expected, _sweet._ But not in the sugary way. Not sweet like honey or raspberry jelly. Sweet in the way that is so uniquely Baekhyun, sweet like the last day of a summer of rain. Sweet like watching a daisy bloom to life, like the first sip of pumpkin juice on a warm night. Sweet like the sun and moon spending one beautiful moment together before parting ways. 

Jongdae throws his arms around Baekhyun and deepens the kiss, lips sliding against his. They’re impossibly close, it’s strange to think they could even get closer than they already have been the entire night, but it feels so incredibly liberating to kiss him, to love him openly, to not have to shove anything away. How stupid he’s been. 

When they break, they don’t let go of each other. Baekhyun keeps him close. His eyes flicker all over his face, and he breaks into a smile that Jongdae returns, and time isn’t real, but Baekhyun is, and this very _second_ is. 

It’s three in the morning by the time they make it to Baekhyun’s apartment. Neither of them really sleep, saying things they’ve never said to each other as they bury themselves — fully clothed, jeans and all — in Baekhyun’s blankets. They laugh and even cry a little, Jongdae takes Baekhyun’s fingers and plays with them, Baekhyun kisses Jongdae’s head, until the sun comes up and Jongdae rests his head against Baekhyun’s chest as they watch it rise through Baekhyun’s stupid, obnoxious windows. Baekhyun flicks him on the head every time he teases him how stupid and obnoxious they are, but he kisses it better after too.

They quiet down only when the sun is fully in the sky. It’s golden, beaming over the horizon of the city and filtering into Baekhyun’s bedroom until they’re, too, casted in the sunlight. Jongdae falls asleep pressed against Baekhyun, sun against his eyelids and, for the first time in a long time, fully and wholly, completely — with no shame or guilt — in love.

**Author's Note:**

> it got really cheesy i'm sorry  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/sawoIie)


End file.
